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POEMS 



of 



Life in the Country 



and 



By the Sea 

b/f/brown 



Third Edition, Revised and Richly Illustrated 



Copyright, 1913, by B. F. Brown 



MUSKEGON, ^IICHIGAN 
1913 



T5 3^ ^ 




©CI.Aa54083 



INDEX 

A Bunch of Violets 48-50 

After Huckleberries (Illustrated) 32 

After the Shower {Illustrated) 50 

A Light from Paradise 78 

A Quartet of Wild Flowers 52, 54, 56, 58 

A Trip to Childhood 80 

Billy Asks about Politics 22 

Beneath the Old Elm Tree (Illustrated) 46 

Blue Fringed Gentian (Illustrated) 56 

By the Sea, a Retrospect 67 

Crows in the Corn Field 13 

Daisies {Illustrated) 54 

Falling Leaves 8 

Gideon Smith, the Joiner 28 

Goldenrod {Illustrated) 58 

Happiness Came Christmas Day 71 

Haying, Some Memory Talks 18 

His Wealth to Gain 23 

In Memory's Chamber {Illustrated) 34 

In the Forest {Illustrated) 72 

In the High-Back Sleigh {Illustrated) 60 

Nature's Play {Illustrated) 48 

On the Old Farm {Illustrated) 14 

On the Sandy Beach 76 

One Summer Night {Illustrated) 74 

Peace 55 

Peep, Peep, Peep {Illustrated) 52 

Ringing of the Chimes {Illustrated) 77 

Roses 42 



INDEX 



School Days in the Country 66 

Springtime (Illustrated) 43 

The Blush of Dawn 58 

The Circus 29 

The Country Boy (Illustrated) 20 

The Curtain of Night (Illustrated) 8 

The Hills of Old New England (Illustrated) 36 

The Misplaced Switch 19 

The Old Woolen Jacket 70 

The Quilting Bee 62-63 

The River of Life 41 

The School Exhibition 12 

The Schoolhouse on the Hill (Illustrated) 44 

The Sea (Illustrated) 64 

The Sea Mystery (Illustrated) 68 

The Singing School 40 

The Summer Morn 7 

The Summer Night 43 

The Sunset (Illustrated) 7 

The Vacation Rest (Illustrated) 24, 26, 27 

The Winter Day (Illustrated) 10 

The Wreck of the Titanic 41 

Winter (Illustrated) 30 

Yellow Cowslips (Illustrated) 52 



A copy of this book will be mailed to you, postpaid, 
for 50 cents in stamps sent to B. F. Brown, ]\Iuskegon, 
Michigan. 

Price in rich cloth binding, gilt title and illustrated 
cover, one dollar sent to above address. 

The best gift book of the season. 



INTRODUCTORY 

'npHIS little volume of verses has many lines 
-"- which, while I read, make me, in imagi- 
nation, actually present among the scenes and 
with the associations there portrayed — in fact, 
these verses are born of my life in the country 
among the hills and valleys of New England, 
born of my schooldays in the "schoolhouse on 
the hill," of the days on the "old farm," of 
the "school exhibitions," "singing schools," and 
many other happy times in childhood, youth, 
and later years. 

I hope these verses may touch the feelings 
of many who read them, and that, like the 
treasures in our memories, "while we sit by 
the fireside and ponder them o'er," peace may 
"comfort our hearts like a sweet benediction." 

On the "Old Farm" was the home of my 
boyhood, and many years ago the home of 
General Israel Putnam, famous in the records 
of the War of the Revolution. I cordially 
welcome the readers of this little book. 
B. F. BROWN 




'The day's farewell to the summer night," Photo by Miss Oostdyk 



POEMS 

From Life's Experience 



THE SUMMER MORN 

A blush of pink melting in the blue 

With a lingering star just peeping through. 

A glow of light where the robin sings, 

The breath of the roses' blossomings, 

The silvery webs on the meadow grass, 

With tiny dewdrops overcast. 

The soft air stirred by the waking breeze 

To a low sweet song through the leafy trees 

A thrill of joy in our souls newborn, — 

All tell of the beautiful summer morn. 

— From "New Ensland M asazine ," by B. F. Brown 



THE SUNSET 



A ro3'al gem was the rosy west, 
Of heaven's works the loveliest. 
Draped with a sheen of opal light, 
The day's farewell to the summer night. 

We watched while the Artist changed its tone. 
Till the brightest tints had softer grown. 
And as we gazed on the picture fair. 
We felt the hand of the Master there. 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE CURTAIN OF NIGHT 

Over the shadowy trees it falls. 
Over the ivy-mantled w^alls. 
Over each stone and silent grave, 
Over the church from tower to nave, 
Over the city that tries in vain 
To win its light the day again. 

Over the sea till each darkening roll 
Grown darker and black like a ruined soul, 
Over us all with insistent creep 
Falls the curtain of night 
Till the world is asleep. 

The curtain of night, ah ! who can say 
When, never again it will end the day, 
Or, when will appear its last uproll 
Through the endless blue tow'rd its mystic goal. 



FALLING LEAVES 



Falling leaves, falling leaves. 

Back to earth. 
Back to the source that gave them birth. 
So do we, life's voyage past. 
Take down the sails, release the mast, 
And willing, cross the storm-lashed beach 
Our Father's welcome home to reach. 



Muskegon, Oct. 11. 1912. 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE WINTER DAY 

Bright is the dawn of the winter morn 

And icy the winds that blow 
Through the valleys and over the hills, 

Curling the drifts of snow. 

The storm is over, the stars grow dim, 

The moon sinks in the west, 
A rosy glow on the hills of snow, 

A morning with beauty blest. 

In the forest nook, by the ice-bound brook, 
The pine trees wear a shroud. 

And over their green its folds are seen 
White as a summer cloud. 

Now the sleigh bells ring, and the horses tiing 
Their hoofs on the polished road, 

And the happy throng, as they glide along, 
Is life with joy o'erflowed. 

There's a charming play of the winter day 
On the heart with a touch that thrills, 

And the cords of life grow strong for strife 
And the soul with courage fills. 



10 




The Winter Day 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION 

The skool exhibition, why a'nt you a-goin' ? 
They say that our skolars will make a big showin' ; 
The hull skool cummitty will be there ter-night, 
And the children will bring lots of candles to light. 

Down in the Smith Valley they had one last night, 
And them as has seen, sed 'twan't much of a sight; 
And in the Jones deestrick they didn't do well. 
But we'll show 'em how, make 'em think for a snell. 

Jim's a-practicin' now, every evening this week. 
He's up in the atick, you kin hear his boots squeak; 
He's goin' ter speak of an Injun so brave 
That he'd swim till he drowned, 'fore he'd be a darn 
slave. 

You know, our Salomie'll stand up and recite. 
She'll look terribul nice, goin' ter dress all in white. 
Jed Stebbins, he's borrowed a yaller box sleigh, 
Throw'd out all ther seats, put in sum bog hay. 

An' reckins he'll carry ez many's a duzen. 

By usin' two bosses, got one from his cuzin. 

Cy, he'll do the drivin' and Jed pack 'em in, . 

They're sure ter git there 'fore the show will begin. 

Don't sit there a-smokin', just finish yer chores. 

Put on yer black trowses, them others is tore ; 

Be sure and start arly, take Jim and Salome, 

After washin' the dishes, I'll ride down with Jerome. 



12 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



. CROWS IN THE CORN FIELD 

Hang them old crows, they pull up the corn. 
The thievingest critters that ever were born ; 
Dad sez, "If we get one," he'll give us a quarter; 
That "if" 's a high fence and I think that he'd orter. 

I took that old gun and shot at 'em twice, 
But they didn't care, the corn was too nice, 
So I just fired again, hit one in the tail 
And then they flew off, had plenty of sail. 

Say, Billy, I'm full of a dandy idee, — 
Way back in our woods is a tall chestnut tree ; 
There's a nest near the top, for I heard the "caw, caw" 
Of a crow flying there, 'twas the little crow's maw. 

A crow is a crow whether old or it's young, 
If we get all those young ones, why Dad will be stung; 
So we'll shin up the tree, I bet we'll get four, 
And that will knock Dad for a dollar or more. 



I expect he will squeal, but that won't do any good. 
Them young ones are eating his corn for their food 
A quarter for one means a dollar for four. 
And if he hesitates, we'll stick him for more. 



13 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



ON THE OLD FARM 

Far away on the dear old farm 
Is a home with a lastino- charm. 

Old and gray ; 
Its roof with moss is covered 
Where the waving branches hovered 

Many a day. 

How often has the dawning 
Of a beautiful June morning, 

Long ago, 
At my window blushed while telling 
Of the roses sweetly smelling, 

Just below. 

The beauty, like a blessing. 
Of Nature, sweet, caressing, 

Filled the air : 
The woods and fields were glorious, 
z\nd summer reigned victorious 

Everywhere. 

In meadows sweet with haying 
We, happy children playing, 

Wandered free ; 
The birds sang gaily o'er us 
While we would join the chorus. 

Full of glee. 

The round-eyed daisies, spying 
The blue where clouds were flying, 

Seemed to say: 
"Though sweet at times life's story. 
Up yonder lies its glory, 

Far away." 



14 




'The round-eyed daisies, spying ' Photo by Phil M. Riley 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

Beside the brooklet flowing 
We found fair gentians growing, 

Heavenly blue; 
And later, nuts delicious 
Encased in burrs malicious. 

Two by two. 

Of work we made a pleasure 
In filling many a measure, 

Husking corn ; 
Plump turkeys, 'round us feeding, 
Thanksgiving all unheeding, 

Fatal morn. 

By fireside's ruddy glow, 
Outside, the drifting snow, — 

We would meet; 
With apples, ripe and red. 
And nuts on table spread. 

Such a treat. 

And as the flames leaped higher 
We, gazing in the fire, 

Seemed to see 
Old Santa Claus, gifts bringing. 
While Christmas bells were ringing 

Merrily. 

We had no thought of sorrow, 
'Twas joy today, tomorrow, 

Then, — always. 
Ah, me, as years grow older. 
The world seems hard and colder, 

Shorn of rays. 

But far beyond its toiling, 
Beyond its sad turmoiling. 

Shines the light 
Of Heaven, a joy forever. 
Where the bright day shall never 

End in night. 

i6 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



HAYING, SOME MEMORY TALKS 

Did you ever smell the new-mown grass, 
Or ever have leisure the time to pass, 
Though short, yet sweet, in the field to rest 
While the haying season was at its best? 
If so, you heard the birds' sweet song, 
You watched, you listened, and waited long, 
And shortened the time for 3^our homeward walk 
You can't forget, there'll be memory talk 

In a quiet way, 
Of the pleasures 3^ou had that summer day. 

Down in the meadow in haying time, 

In days of old, when the scythes would chime, 

While the men, in shirts and overalls. 

Would whet them sharp for many falls 

Of the waving grass into winrows sweet. 

And the straw-hat boy with scratched bare feet 

Would spread it wide with his two-tined fork; 

Is the place that makes my memory talk 

In a quiet way, 
Of the old home farm and making hay. 

And then, in the fervid afternoon 
We would rake the hay up; none too soon. 
For the thunder-heads in the west appeared 
Like fleece from a sheep that was newly sheared ; 
No time to waste, 'twas the workers' test, 
For the clouds grew darker in the west, 
•'Twas a rush to the barn, to run, not walk ; 
And that, too, makes my memory talk 

In a quiet way, 
Of how we escaped the shower that day. 



i8 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



IHE MISPLACED SWITCH 

Wearily, tearfully tramping home, — 
For the automobile refused to come, — 
Hatless, switchless, the maiden, fair, 
Excepting the spots where mud was there, 
Declared that never again she'd go 
In an automobile without her beau. 

For highly elated, that summer morn 

She tooted and tooted her auto horn 

And tried to attain a marvelous speed, 

To the curves in the road she gave no heed, 

But the auto thus driven, go farther would nut. 

Turned turtle and puffed in the meadow lot. 

And safely rolled that maiden gay 
Over a pile of new-mown ha3% 
Sliding her into a muddy ditch 
Where the sticky ooze destroyed her switch ; 
'Twas a lovely crop she had raised herself 
Since the days when she was a little elf. — 
Lucky for "Maud" the "Judge'' wasn't there 
To see her without her bunch of hair. 

The automobile was upside down, 
'Twas the most expensive in the town. 
But the dearest thing that perished there 
Was the switch of the maiden's home-grown hair. 
For the years will come and the years will go 
But never again on her head will grow 
Enough to make such a dand}^ switch 
As she lost that day in the muddy ditch. 



19 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE COUNTRY BOY 

On a tick filled with straw, sleeping soundl}^ he lay, 
A sleep that was perfect, for labor, part pay; 
No youth in the city could ever enjoy 
The pleasure of rest as much as that boy. 

The calls of the morning awaken the lad, 
Shirt, pants, one suspender, enough, he's full clad ; 
Not a minute is wasted, for all of the cows 
Must be milked before sunrise and turned out to 
browse. 

No short hours of labor has this country boy, 
He knows that no farmer could that way enjoy; 
For when winter arrived the purse would be Ic ai 
And a struggle till springtime the only path seen. 

After breakfast 'tis pleasant, in garden and field 
To work with a will for a good harvest yield. 
There's planting and hoeing and haying-time, too, 
And two holidays, just jewels for you. 

'Twas no hardship to work, how often I think 
Of the days, hoeing corn, how the proud bobolink 
Just sings till his throat seems bursting with glee 
And all of his song is intended for me. 

O, don't you remember the day at the fair, 
Every one whom you knew was sure to be there, 
And bashful and awkward, your feelings awhirl, 
You could look, more than talk, when you met that 
dear girl. 



20 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



In winter the parties, the sleighing, the school, 
The games played at noontime, be fair was the rule ; 
The good-night at the ending, the slide down the hill, 
And pleasures, full many, the winter would fill. 

O, boys in the cities, who think that you live 
And have better times than the country can give ; 
Know this to be true, that the bright country lad 
Has pleasures far more than you ever have had. 

Fast life in the city, like brass covered with gold. 
Becomes artificial and spoils when it's old ; 
But life in the country, lived true to the end. 
Has all nature's charms that life to befriend. 



BILLY ASKS ABOUT POLITICS 

"Say, Daddy, what is politics? 

I hear folks say there's dirty tricks 

That men will play in rolitics. 

And how there's lots of mud they throw. 

Sometimes, more than a mile or so, 

And how they scratch a man till bare ; 

Should think he'd need some clothes to wear. 

They say some senators get hot 

No matter if it's cold or not; 

And when the weather'd cook a tater, 

They're cool as a refrigerator ; 

And how sometimes their heads will swell 

Till they can't hear the dinner bell 

Unless it's in a banquet hall, 

And then they're never deaf at all. 



22 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



They say there's few that know the game. 

But try to play it just the same. 

Why don't they teach it in the schools 

So men won't be such awful fools? 

Say, Daddy, what is politics?" 

"Be quiet, Billy, go to bed. 

For politics might swell your head." 



HIS WEALTH TO GAIN 

By the fireside he sat in his easy chair, 
Sat watching the embers glowing there, 
And thinking of days in the long ago. 
When he chose a way in life to go. 

In those days of old, ah, life was sweet, 
Its sorrows drowned by }oys complete ; 
The look ahead was a charming view. 
The stopping-places bright and new. 

His purpose then was wealth to gain, 
To strive and never from that refrain, 
And now, at last he had reached the goal. 
But the embers of life must pay the toll. 

He watched the embers, while, one by one, 
Their light went out like the setting sun. 
And thought while he sat in his easy chair. 
That his all must fade like the embers there. 



23 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE VACATION REST 

Here in the country a few short weeks. 
Here where Nature its language speaks, 
Speaks with a voice that is sweet and low, 
Speaks with its beauties' overflow. 
Over me gaily the white clouds sail. 
Over each hill and fertile vale, 
Songs of the birds and low of the kine, 
Songs never written and all are mine. 
Gone are the worries, toil, and strife. 
Gone are the burdens of city life ; 
Life while I linger is passing sweet. 
Life full of joy that is joy complete. 

The lights and shadows o'er waving grass 

Like fairies dance when the cloudlets pass ; 

In the valley of peace the river glides. 

Seeking afar for the ocean tides. 

Grassy the banks, and the odors sweet 

Of the lilies' bloom near the birds' retreat. 

Go to the country a few short weeks. 

Go where Nature its language speaks. 

Go, yes go, though you go alone. 

For, your strength increased, your cares o'erthrown, 

The storms of life will try in vain 

To wreck your bark when home again. 



24 




'Over me gaily the white clouds sail." Photo by Beckwith 



THE VACATION REST 




'Gone are the burdens of city life." Photo by Beckwith 




'Grassy the banks and the odors sweet." Photo by G. P. Kimberly 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



GIDEON SMITH, THE JOINER 

"Carpenter & Joiner," that was his sign, 
But he'd join everything that entered his mind; 
The first baby show in the old Town Hall 
He joined and joined in the baby squall. 

Later he joined in the primary class. 
Joined the teacher in kissing a beautiful lass, 
Joined in the singing, then joined in the prayer, 
And in every quarrel that happened there. 

Still later, when larger and able to play, 
Joined all the ball clubs that came in his way ; 
He joined in licking the umpire, too, 
Whenever the chap wouldn't join in his view. 

O, that Gideon Smith, he joined the church 
And societies, all he could find by search, 
The Masons, the Elks, the Odd Fellows, too. 
Wh}^, he joined them all and longed for new. 

He joined with Salomie in wedlock bands. 
Then joined with the preacher in holding her hands 
He joined in living with her the life 
That made them happy, as man and wife. 

He joined the crowd that went to his grave. 
But there, left alone, just his record to save. 
He concluded to leave and join Gideon's band 
And in singing the songs in the heavenly land. 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE CIRCUS 

Say, Jimmy, I. read in the papers last night. 

The circus is coming to town ; 

So get your best girl and I will take mine 

And we'll hitch up the horse and go down. 

I saw near the village, on old Allen's barn, 

A picture of tigers a- jumping, 
And elephants big with tails at both ends ; 

I tell you. that circus is something. 

Tomorrow we'll go and I don't care a darn, 

If when we get home, it's a licking". 
For we work all the time and don't get a dime, 

And whenever I rest. Dad is kicking. 

There'll be girls riding horses, with skirts like um- 
brellas, 

And stockings as long as your breeches ; 
They're all pink and white, a most beautiful sight, 

Their riding, the fancy bewitches. 

For peanuts and popcorn and lemonade, too, 
We'll spend for the girls lots of money. 

And laugh till we ache, while our jackets will shake. 
For the clown will be awfully funny. 

When down in the village, we'll go to the store 
And purchase pie, doughnuts, and cheese 

And fruit, sweetened and canned, the very best brand. 
For a lunch with the girls 'neath the trees. 

So keep your eyes bright, for money is tight, 
And whenever you can, grab a copper, 

For we'll need all we get tomorrow, you bet; 
If we're questioned, we'll tell them a whopper. 
29 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



WINTER 

How the wind whistles and rattles the blinds 
While the rain and sleet strike the window panes, 

And the Storm-King marshals his hosts and hnds 
Every place where a hole or crevice remains. 

The snow sifts in when the gusts fly past, 
The drifts whirl over the garden wall, 

The storms of winter are here at last 
Draping the sky with a leaden pall. 

The back-log lies in the wide fireplace, 
And the burning embers search its heart, 

While the glowing fire creeps on apace. 
Tearing its sinews of oak apart. 



Let the storm go on, we defy the cold. 

We are cosy and warm in the lamp-lit room, 

While the apples roast in the ashes old 

And the walnuts crack to meet their doom. 



We gather around the fireside now 
And talk of the days in the long ago, 

Of the glorious times we had and how 

We would race our steeds over ice and snow. 



Let the winter come, there are joys it brings 
To the boys and girls, to the young and old 

Every snow-clad hill in the moonlight sings 
Of the "mansions fair and the streets of gold.' 



30 



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"How the wind whistles and rattles the blinds.' 
Photo by W. Mizunuma 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



AFTER HUCKLEBERRIES 

Did you ever go for berries in the pasture lot, 

Go barefoot, where thistles prick, to find the thickest 

spot? 
Six-quart pails you used to fill, nothing else would do. 
Mother wanted them for pies, and 'twas up to you. 

In those August days, you know, it was awful hot. 
Largest berries never grew in a shady spot ; 
So when you were melting fast, tired from the heat, 
You would break the bushes down, find a shady seat. 

Underneath those big oak trees, just a mile from school. 
There you'd pick the berries off, feeling nice and cc ol ; 
Then you'd go and break some more, bring a big pile 

back. 
Dodging thistles here and there and the wasp's attack. 

You would never go alone, all the neighbors knew 
Where to send their boys and girls, where best berries 

grew ; 
So there was a jolly time, every pail was full. 
When suddenlv appeared in sight the farmer's angry 

bull. 



He bellowed loud and pawed the earth, we scampered 

towards the wall 
And safely reached the other side with no one hurt 

at ail. 
But berries ! there they stayed all day, and there they 

stayed all night, 
And there, perhaps, they're staying now if that big 

bull's in sight. 



32 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



IN MEMORY'S CHAMBER 

In the chamber of memory are beautiful treasures, 

Enticing us often to enter its doors ; 
Its pictures are full of the dearest of pleasures, 

And, O, how we long just to live them once more. 
How swift sped the hours, how bright was the sunlight, 

How happy the seasons those pictures recall. 
Through the veil of the past their radiance glimmers, 

Like the glow of the sunset when night shadows fall. 



One canvas, presenting a scene of my childhood, 

Shows sweet little faces and white slumber clothes 
Encircling the fireside, whose bright, sparkling embers 

Discover the darlings just warming their toes. 
Another I see, — now the years have grown older, 

And softly the moonlight its drapery throws 
Round a beautiful face, nestling close to my shoulder 

Enchanting and sweeter than June's blushing rose. 

There are moments so precious, they sparkle like dia- 
monds, 

There are hours rich as rubies, whose record is there. 
There are days, like rare gems, when the blue arch of 
Heaven 

Seems the curtain of Paradise, wondrously fair. 
These treasures are ours, ours now and forever, 

Their beauty unfading, time adds to their store; 
Peace comforts our hearts, like a sweet benediction, 

While we sit by the firelight and ponder them o'er. 



34 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

A Song 
THE HILLS OF OLD NEW ENGLAND 

O, the hills of old New England, 

How the pictures comes and go 
As my fancy paints their beauty 

'Mid the scenes of long ago; 
The old home beneath the maples 

Where the happy children play, 
E'en now their voices reach me 

Till it seems but yesterday. 

On a hill of old New England 

By the spreading boughs of green 
Stands the schoolhouse of my boyhood; 

Many years now roll between — 
Let the past become the present, 

Brush the mists of years away, 
And once more upon that hillside 

Life is all a holiday. 

O, the hills of old New England, 

Rolling on 'neath summer skies, 
Forest-crowned or waving verdure, 

How their glory fills our eyes ; 
Many lands Eve traveled over, 

On their sunny slopes to rest. 
But the hills of old New England 

Are the ones I love the best. 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



O, the hills of old New England, 

Would you all their beauty know ; 
See them in the winter moonlight, 

When their brows are white with snow : 
When the Ice-King drapes their shoulders 

And like sentinels they stand. 
Ever watching, cold and silent, 

'Till the morn breaks o'er the land. 

O, the hills of old New England, 

Could their stories all be told, 
Of the joys and griefs among them 

In the days now growing old; 
Many hearts would throb with pleasure, 

Many tears perchance might flow, 
But we long once more to linger 

Round those hills of long ago. 



O, their beauty in the springtime, 

In the morn or sunset glow, 
Fairer still in breath of summer, 

Glorious in winter's snow ; 
O, the hills of old New England, 

How my heart with rapture thrills, 
As I wander back in mem'ry 

To those old New England hills. 



38 



^-^ 




POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SINGING SCHOOL 

Now all together, high from low. 
Do, ra, mi, fa, sol, la. ci. do ; 
Just follow me and sing just so. 
Do, ci, la, sol. fa. mi, ra. do. 

The violin as he swings the bow 
Brings out the sounds, now high, now low, 
And the teacher, singing and playing, too, 
Is an awesome sight to his country crew. 

"And now," he says, "1 will voices test; 
You, Thomas Jones, just sing your best." 
And Tom gives forth a rumbling roar, 
A bass untrimmed and something more. 

"Now, Mary Ann, it's up to you ; 
Just show me now what you can do." 
And the healthy blonde, with the yellow hair. 
Soprano proves while the hearers stare. 

"A voice I heard in the rear end seat. 
Will Billy Smith the tone repeat?" 
Then Smith, he gave a piercing yell, 
Till the oil lamps shook, 'twas a tenor spell. 

"An alto now we want to hear, 
I think we have one sitting near." 
And Nellie sang, a voice so sweet, 
That all the school said, "Please repeat." 

And so he picked them, one by one, 
Till finally the task was done ; 
And singing school in the old town hall 
Was started in the early fall. 



40 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE WRECK OF THE TITANIC 

There was wealth of beauty and wealth of gold 
Of value naught 'gainst a fate untold. 
The humble, poor, and the millionaire. 
As the ship went down grew equal there. 

Down in the depths their forms will rest, 
But far above from the regions blest 
Came the Father's love and His helping hand 
To give them life in the Better Land. 

We never dream that our span of life 
May be cut short, while pleasure's rife; 
But, listen, — this the ages chime, 
Life here is dust on the wheels of time. 



THE RIVER OF LIFE 



There's many a snag in the river of life 

And winding its current and way, 
Our bark must be steered through the storm and 
strife 

To reach the safe harbor some day. 

There's many a path leading through the mist 
That covers the future, that will be missed ; 

We can only hope, that among them all. 
The one we find will have little fall. 

There's many a day when losing sight, 
The way seems dark, no beacon light ; 

And we can not tell which way to go 

Then comes the thoughtj that He will know. 

41 




*Tn the shade of the old garden apple tree, resting,' 
Photo by E. R. Rolander 



ROSES 

Down in the garden I wandered one morn, 

Looking for roses sweet; 
Roses in blossom with night dews thereon, 

Robed in a beauty complete. 
Searching, I found the fairest ones there, 

Born while the stars shone above ; 
Breathing their fragrance, their perfume rare. 

Sweet as a message of love. 



Only the best of the roses I took, 

Roses I knew she would prize; 
Payment in full would be her kind look, 

Just a look from the dearest blue eyes. 
I gave her the roses, said never a word. 

But watched the light shine in her eyes, 
And then, in return, no language was heard, 

Her gift was the sweetest surprise. 

42 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



SPRINGTIME 

In the shade of the old garden apple tree resting; 

While breezes pla}^ softly 'mid blossoms and leaves, 
And in its green branches the robins are nesting; 

Glad notes of the springtime my fancy receives. 
A perfume delicious my breath is inhaling, 

The arch of the sky wears a lovely May blue, 
And over its sea the white clouds are sailing, 

Till, harbored in sunlight, they vanish from view. 

Now down by the meadows where flowers are springing, 

The swallows are curving in crescents of light, 
While sweet on the air falls the jubilant singing 

Of birds new redeemed from the winter's long night. 
O, glorious springtime, when earth is awaking, 

And Nature in beautiful garments is dressed ; 
Thy smile giveth life to each day's undertaking, 

Thy generous heart ever brings us the best. 



THE SUMMER NIGHT 



Soft whispering in the leafy trees. 
The slumber-soothing gentle breeze 
With fairy wand disturbs the air. 
Filled with the breath of roses rare. 



The katydid 'mid fluttering leaves 
Declares she did, perhaps deceives; 
The whip-poor-will has wish intense 
That Will should smart for some offense. 



43 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



Descending in the languorous night, 
With silent move, the moonlight bright 
Creeps through the windows, just to peep 
At white-robed darlings, lost in sleep. 

O summer night ! 'tis Nature's sleep, 
O'er all the earth its rest will creep. 
And he. who daily does his best, 
Will largest share in Nature's rest. 



A Song 
THE SCHOOLHOUSE ON THE HILL 

In the golden summer morning, 

Down the sunny winding road. 
By the verdant, flowery meadows; — 

How my heart with joy o'erflowed — 
O, the happy days of childhood, 

Recollection brings a thrill, 
As in fancy now I wander 

Near the schoolhouse on the hill. 

Birds are singing by the wayside, 

There's a nest 'mid bowers of green, 
Berries ripe stain little fingers 

While they search the briars between ; 
Wealth of beauty, joy and sunshine, 

Nature's best our longings fill 
While we trudge along the pathway 

Towards the schoolhouse on the hill. 



44 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



Blue the skies that shine above it. 

Curtained by the whispering trees, 
Rich the memories clustering round it, 

Sweeter than the summer breeze. 
Smooth and hollow is its doorstep, 

Worn and thin its ancient sill 
By the little feet that entered 

In the schoolhouse on the hill. 




'In the solden summer morning." Photo by W. L. Pond 



45 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



A SoN(; 
BENEATH THE OLD ELM TREE 

I wandered near the old home 

Where, in the long ago. 
There lived a happy maiden 

Who kept my heart aglow ; 
I sat, where oft we lingered, 

Beneath the old elm tree, 
And in m}^ memory captured 

Her voice of melody. 

Her smiling face, enchanting, 

Drew near, and I could see 
Her witching roguish glances, 

Lovelight bestowed on me. 
And in my dream I held 

Her dear warm hand in mine. 
And once more felt the rapture 

Of love almost divine. 

Then waking, gazed about me. 

The night grew dark and cold ; 
Alas ! 'twas but a vision. 

My days were growing old ; 
With longing I reached backward 

To grasp those days of yore, — 
The elm tree branches whispered, 

Soft whispered, "nevermore." 



46 




'1 wandered near the old home." Photo by Dr. E. F. Beckwith 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

NATURE'S PLAY 

Blue is the sky dome over the green, 
Golden the sunshine sifting between 
Branches that lazily sway in the breeze, 
Showering the shadows under the trees 
With arrows of light from the quiver of noon, 
By the bow whose arch is the bright sky of June. 

Sweet is the air with the perfume of flowers 
Yielding their life through the long sunny hours ; 
With the song of the birds and the kiss of the dawn 
To give them a welcome, their beauty was born. 
And now seeks the sun its nightly repose, 
While over its couch drapes a curtain of rose. 

The clouds rolling upward in waves from the west, 
Wear the colors of heaven with silvery crest, 
Where the moon proudly sailing disperses her light 
Till the little stars modestly creep out of sight. 
These beautiful charms of the night and the day 
Are glorious acts in Nature's grand play. 



A Song 
A BUNCH OF VIOLETS 

Only a bunch of violets sweet, 
Only a vision of heavenly blue; 
Only blue eyes they love to meet. 
Only a token of love for you. 
Only a little gift 'tis true. 
Yet when you look with your eyes of blue 
Over them fondly with tender care, 
Surely my love will meet you there. 




'Wi 



h arrows ot light from the quiver of noon. 
Photo by Oliver T. Waite 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



Only a bunch of violets sweet. 
Telling the story of lovely spring; 
Shyly they bloom where the birds retreat 
Near by the woodland their songs to sing. 
Blue are the skies on a summer day, 
Blue are the hills in the far-away ; 
Blue are these violets, yet, 'tis true, 
Lovelier still are your eyes of blue. 



Only a bunch of violets sweet. 
Only blue eyes they love to meet ; 
So do I send them Avith joy to you. 
Breathing my love in these violets blue. 



AFTER THE SHOWER 



After the shower comes a golden refrain. 

Nature smiling through tears, joy-tears from the rain; 

After the showers, showers that gladden the earth, 

Blade, blossom, and leaf feel the joy of new birth. 

After our trials are fought one by one. 

Life strengthens and glows when the victory's won. 

After we've wandered astray in life's vale 

Comes a brighter outlook when we strike the right trail. 



50 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



PEEP, PEEP, PEEP 

Way down in the swamp, by the pasture near, 

Peep, peep, peep, 
The first voices of spring, spring actually here. 
Peep, peep, peep, 
They are little peep- frogs 
In invisible togs. 

Peep, peep, peep. 
When the twilight descends 
Thus they call to their friends, 
"Spring gently awakes 
From our long slumber takes 
Till we 
Peep, peep, peep." 



A QUARTET OF WILD FLOWERS 
Yellow Cowslips 

Out in the woods in the early spring 
When the joy of birds just makes them sing; 
Down in the swamp where the alders grow, 
'Twixt mossy bogs where dull water flow ; 
With bright green leaves, near the mosses old 
Are the early cowslips with hues of gold. 

What a joy supreme, just to wander there 
From bog to bog, look out ! take care ! 
Then a careless tread betrays your feet 
And their muddy tops is mud complete; 
A few more steps and you make a pull 
For the solid ground with 3^our basket full. 



52 



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"Peep. peep, pe.ep." 

"Out in the woods in early spring." 

Photo by Dr. E. F. Eeckwith 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



The songs of spring: are in the air. 

The swelling buds their faith declare 

That the winter days are past and gone 

And the green-trimmed boughs are hastening on 

To make the woods a leafy bower 

Where the sunlight shoots its arrow shower. 

Daisies 

Daisies purple, daisies white. 
Ox-eyed daisies, golden bright ; 
Every little blossom knows. 
When the summer south wind blows. 
Waving grassy slopes in June, 
That its short life endeth soon. 

So it uses all its power, 
Buds are opening every hour, 
Fields of daisies, purest white 
Glisten in the soft sunlight. 
Gaily dotted here and there 
Where the happy children are. 

Picking all they want and more, 
Making daisy chains galore, 
Shouting, laughing, full of glee, 
Not a care, from labor free. 
Daisy time in leafy June 
Perfect chord in Nature's tune. 



54 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

PEACE 

On the moonlit sands b\' the summer sea, 
Above, the vast infinity, 
Full of celestial harmony ; 
Around, a sweet tranquility. 
The slumbering" day's last lullaby,— 
Stilled by the night's soft witchery, 
We sit and dream. 

The world is gone with yesterday ; — 
Beyond, is all a mvstery. 
Now, from the Night's divinity, 
Falls with her beauteous drapery. 
Falls on our souls like melody, 
A happy peace. 




'Daisies purple, daisies white." 

55 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



Blue Fringed Gentian 

Blue fringed gentian 

Claims attention 
In September hours ; 

Born of sunlight, 

'Tis its birthright, 
Queen of all wild flowers. 

You must travel 

To unravel 
Questions where to lind it 

One 3'ear, hither, 

Next year, thither ; 
Leaves no trace behind it. 

B\' the brookside 

Near the noontide. 
There its beauty glows ; 

Buds uplifted. 

Opened, rifted, 
When the sunshine flows. 

Sky blue tinges, 

Dainty fringes 
'Round their lovely bells ; 

Is the story 

Of their glory 
That the vision tells. 



56 




Blue Fringed Gentians. Photo by W. L. Pond 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



GOLDENROD 

Near the old stone wall, by the country road. 
Close by the fence, after fields are mowed, 
Bowing politely, to those who have trod 
Over the hills, is the goldenrod. 

All day long with the winds at play. 
Growing in beauty day by day; 
Counting its bloom as a mass of gold, 
Despising all others as poor and old. 

O, the goldenrod is a proud young thing 
And sways its head with a saucy fling. 
But when you meet it and stop a while, 
It greets you then with a winning smile. 



THE BLUSH OF DAWN 

'Neath the starry dome, from its eastern rim 
Timid and pale, comes the daylight dim ; 
A blush appears as the waking dawn 
Approaches night, tells of day unborn. 
Her blushes startle, impel the night 
With star-trimmed mantle to take its flight; 
The blushes vanish, their work is done. 
For brightly shines the rising sun. 



58 




'Near 



the old stone walls by the country road." 
Photo by W. T.. Pond 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



IN THE HIGH-BACK SLEIGH 

Over the hills in the high-back sleigh, 
Over the hills on that sunn}-- da}^ 
Diamonds on shrubs and ice-bound trees 
Flashed when stirred by the morning breeze, 
For the winter night of mist and rain 
Had trimmed them over and over again. 

Over the hills in the high-back sleigh 
With buffalo robes the cold to stay, 
And soap-stones hot, wrapped snug and neat 
In grandma's shawl to warm your feet, 
One hand sufficient the horse to guide, 
One arm to keep close by A'our side 

The dearest girl you ever knew. 
With rosy cheeks and eyes of blue, 
And 'neath her hood strayed many a curl, 
Her smiles to wreath, your head to whirl. 
'Twas a joy supreme that winter day 
Over the hills in the high-back sleigh. 

Over the hills in the high-back sleigh — 

When memory brings the far-away, 

You can almost hear the sleigh-bells ring 

And see the white fields hurrying 

By, as they did that sunny day 

When you rode with her in the high-back sleigh. 



60 



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W.:^ 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE QUILTING BEE 

"Sary, you must sweep the parlor 

And then open all the blinds. 
All them frames are in the garret, 

Wish we had some better kinds. 
But you'll bring 'em doAvn, we'll use 'em, 

Put 'em on those high-back chairs. 
Reckin they're as good as Hubbard's 

Or as others anywhere. 

"Widder Maine and Mary's comin, 

Aliens, Hubbards, Chapmans, too. 
There'll be plenty for the quiltin', 

And we'll have a sight to do ; 
I'm a-goin' to do some cooking, 

Make some bread and jelly cake, 
Sugar-quince, some tea and cookies, 

That's enough for them to take. 

"Here they are : 'Why, Mandy Wiggins, 

Where on 'arth is sister Liz?' 
'O, she's feelin' purty meechin, 

Got a touch of rheumatiz.' 
Never mind, we'll do some hustling. 

Things are ready for you all. 
Seems as if your new skirt's rustling, 

Mandy, ain't you gettin' tall ? 

"Sakes alive ! why, look at Sally, 

My, she's gettin' awful fat ; 
How's she makin' out with Hally? 

Bet he don't know what she's at. 
T'other day I heard that Cyndy 

Hoped to catch that city chap, 
Just because the brazen feller 

Tried to take her in his lap. 



62 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



"Widder Maine sez : * 'Tain't no jokin' 

'Bout them little Hubbard twins, 
When you sort 'em. do some pokin' 

Till you find two safety pins ; 
That one's Jimmie, always wears 'em ; 

Johnnie, he ain't got but one. 
My ! if anybody tears 'em 

Off the young- uns there'll be fun.' 



"There, I guess you all need resting, 

Come into the settin' room, 
Mandy's in there, tea a-testing, — 

Made this carpet on my loom — 
Sit down now ; don't stop for dressin' 

Wish the minister was here. 
But our Sar3^'ll ask the blessin', 

We kin eat then without fear. 



"Mandy, won't you pour the tea, 

Middlin' weak or, mabbe, strong, 
Won't you all say how you like it 

'Fore I pass the cups along? 
Take some bread and home-made butter, 

Try my cake, it's awful good. 
There's some quince and sugar cookies, 

Tried to make the best I could. 



"Well, I hope you've all had plenty, 

'Don't go hungry,' is my say. 
And I'm awful glad the quiltin' 

Is all finished nice today ; 
Thank you for the help to do it. 

Now I bid you all good-night. 
Hope they've left enough for supper, 

Men folks eat an awful sight." 



63 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SEA 

By the rolling sea, on the wave-beat shore. 
Is the place I love when the breakers roar; 
When the howling winds drive the angry skies 
Till the shadows grow where the sea-gull flies. 

When the cloudless sky wears a turpoise hue, 
Then the sea replies with a deeper blue; 
And its feathery edge a white rim shows 
Where the sandy beach in the sunlight glows. 

How the moon's soft rays, in the summer night, 
On the dimpling waves paint a path of light ; 
And the stars like diamonds gleam afar, 
While the sea sobs low on the harbor bar. 

There's never a day and never an hour, 
When by the sea, but we feel its power ; 
And whether its mood be wild or tame, 
Its spell is over us just the same. 

The years will come and the years will go 
While ever its tide will ebb and flow ; 
And never its breast rest quietly 
Till it laps the shore of eternity. 



64 




"By the rolling sea, on the wave-beat shore. 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



SCHOOLDAYS IN THE COUNTRY 

In the dew}' morning, over hills and dales, 

Merry voices ringing, shining dinner-pails ; 

Up the hill they scramble towards the schoolhouse door. 

Just as you and I did, — many years before. 

Little barefoot Tommy, Rob and sister Sue, 
Curly-headed Mary in her suit of blue. 
Row by row they're seated, faces all aglow, 
'Cepting "Stubby Peter," sliver in his toe. 



Teacher calls to order, "Class in 'rithmetic, 
Places at the blackboard, every one be quick." 
How the chalk does rattle till the problem's done; 
Bennie proves the victor, calls out "Number one." 



Now the writing lesson ; see them try to write, 
Noses near the paper, some with tongue in sight; 
Little heads a-twisting, think they'll do it better; 
Gracious! what an effort, just to make a letter. 



So the lessons follow till the noon is near ; 
Then a solemn stillness while they wait to hear 
Just a little tingle, then with rush and roar, 
From the desks and benches, out the schoolhouse door 



Pour the lads and lasses, bound to have some fun, 
Every minute precious till the clock strikes one. 
"School-days in the country"; were you ever in it? 
What a world of gladness pressed in every minute. 



66 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



BY THE SEA: A RETROSPECT 

On the curving^ beach we stroll 

While the west is a rosy light, 
Till the flash where the breakers roll 

Discovers the Queen of Night. 

The stars are so bright, seems the story true. 
That some time they might have been 

Just windows through the arch of blue. 
To let heaven's glor}' in. 

The lights on the dancing waters 
Seem playing at hide and seek ; 

While we watch with a thrill of feeling. 
That language can not speak. 

The beautiful night is o'er us, 

Like a master touching the strings, 

Its charm plays sweetly on our hearts 
Till a heavenly melody sings. 

Our thoughts are ever returning. 
Like little waves kissing the shore. 

To the past with an infinite yearning 
To live it all over once more. 



67 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SEA MYSTERY 

There's a charm unknown to the dweller far 
From the sandy shore where the breakers are, 
To feel the spell that will round 3^ou twine, 
In the summer even on the sand recline, 
While the rosy glow of the waning light 
Waves a parting kiss to the starry night. 

Over the sea, over the sea, 

Gaze while the waves chant a soft melody, 

Lapping incessantly, lapping the shore, 

Giving and taking, but taking far more. 

Till the curves on the beach grow wide in their reach 

And the undertow carries the sand to its store. 

Over the sea, over the sea. 
Look till enthralled by the sea mystery. 
Your life in the past dissolves from your view 
And you seemingly enter the far -away blue. 

'Tis the charm of the sea, clinging, holding you tight, 
That keeps you, a watcher, far into the night 
Till, breaking its spell, you wander away, 
But know it will draw you again some day. 



68 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

IN THE FOREST 

Roaming idly in the forest 

In the leafy month of June, 
Is a charm that wraps the senses, 

When all nature is in tune. 
Beautiful in early morning 

Just to wander, careless, free, 
In the silence that is broken 

Only by the melody 
Of the happy, joyous songsters. 

Praise of nature they intone 
Far above the danger region, 

Each a king upon his throne. 

Sit upon the bank and listen 

While the brook across your path 
Ripples soft, and sunlight arrows 

Shoot a beauteous aftermath. 
Watch the branches gently swaying, 

Bowing to the summer breeze; 
See the lights and shadows playing, 

Woodland fairies 'mid the trees. 
Then look upward through the rifting, 

See the glorious azure blue 
Hovering over little cloudlets, 

Tiny cloudlets, white and new. 
You will love her kindly wooing. 

Feel the grasp of Nature's hand, 
Giving you the strength for doing. 

Acting, meeting life's demand. 



72 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



ONE SUMMER NIGHT 

Breaking- gently in milky foam. 
Then returning, again to come; 
Constant never, 
Coqueting ever. 
Trimming with lace the curving shore, 
With silver fringing it o'er and o'er ; 
Thus did the waves, one summer night, 
While we watched them play in the mellow light. 

The moon looked down on an opal sea, 
Which softly sang a lullaby ; 
Born of the spirit of sad unrest. 
Flashing the diamonds on its breast. 

O, never a fairer sight was seen 
Than met our gaze that summer e'en ; 
The long white reach 
Of the sandy beach. 
Bathed in a marvelous pearly light, 
Beckoned us on through the beauteous night ; 
It seemed like a walk on the Heavenly shore, 
By the boundless sea of the Evermore. 

'Twas a night to live in memory, 

Just the fairest picture there. 

To calm the troubled spirit. 

Like the breath of an angel's prayer. 

A haze, like the rainbow's shadow, 
Crept down the arched sky. 
Weaving with warp of moonlight 

A royal canopy. 
Whose folds were pinned with starlights. 
Whose beauty draped the sea, 
And all the realm of nature 
Was one grand harmony. 



74 



'The moon looked down on an opal sea." 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



ON THE SANDY BEACH 

On the white sandy beach. 

Just to sit there and Raze. 
Breathing full the salt air, 

While the sun sheds its rays 
Over grasses and pebbles, 

Over water of blue, 
Over ripples that sparkle. 

Is enchanting to view. 

A mysterious charm 

Envelopes the soul 
While we're watching the breakers 

Never ending their roll; 
The dance of the moonlight 

With ghosts of the spray 
Enthralls and bewilders, 

The world fades away. 

Till a trim little maiden 

Trips along on the sand. 
With eyes of sea blue. 

Cheeks ruddy and tanned; 
Robed dainty in white, 

Neither stockings nor shoes, 
A vision of beauty, 

A charm for the muse. 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

A Song 
RINGING OF THE CHIMES 

Chimes were sweetly ringing, 

Ringing one summer eve. 
Dropping their musical diamonds 

Down in a fairy sieve 
Made by the lights and shadows 

Floating beneath the trees, 
Gently woven together 

By the soft evening breeze. 

Chimes were ringing, ringing, 
Ringing each joyful bell, 

Dropping their musical diamonds 
The old, old songs to tell. 

Sitting there, I listened, 

Listened to hear their ring; 
Ringing the old-time music, 

Songs that I used to sing; 
Then, when their musical story 

Ended at twilight's fall. 
Waves of the past were bringing 

Songs from my memory's hall. 

Chimes were ringing, ringing, 
Ringing each joyful bell, 

Dropping their musical diamonds 
The old, old songs to tell. 

Long-lost melodies, creeping 
Out of the sands of time. 
Tuned by my fanciful musings, 



11 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



Tuned to a tone sublime; 
Moonlight, shadowy visions, 

Visions of olden times 
Folded their charms around me. 

Moved by the ringing chimes. 

Chimes were ringing, ringing, 

Ringing each joyful bell, 
Dropping their musical diamonds 

The old, old songs to tell. 

(One summer eve, while sitting under the trees in the Boston 
public garden, near to the many churches.) 



A Song 
A LIGHT FROM PARADISE 

I dreamed that I sailed on a river fair 

Towards the heavenly Jerusalem, 
While from far away, all the golden day. 

Came sweet songs from the angels' home. 

A storm swept the waters, the daylight fled. 
Dark the night, fierce the wind and cold, 

But 1 knew that the King of that heavenly land 
Would bring me safe into His fold. 

I dreamed that the King sent his angels down, 
That they played on their harps of gold, 

Till the storm was stilled and my soul was thrilled 
While the harmonies upward rolled. 

The darkness of night sped softly away. 
Ne'er a cloud in the sky's blue dome, 

Then a glorious Light shone from Paradise 
And I knew I was almost home. 



78 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



A TRIP TO CHILDHOOD 

Could we roll back the curtain that covers the past, 
Could we clear from life's shore the sands of time, 

We would see the blue skies with no clouds overcast. 
And hear the joy-bells of our childhood chime. 

Then the path will seem brighter as farther we go, 
While we enter the region of joys' overflow, 

And the schoolmates we loved will seemingly say 
"Come nearer and nearer, come join in our play." 

There are sweet little faces, the boys and the girls, 
Bareheaded they frolic, child-nature unfurls ; 

Their shouting and laughing brings the times as of old ; 
We've reached the joyTiarbor, we're back in the fold. 

'Tis our childhood again — then the curtain drops down 
And the waves of the past recede from the shore; 

The pathway now leads from the cross to the crown 
In the Beautiful Land of the Evermore. 



80 



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